Broken Paths
by Moonstone16
Summary: The tale of a young girl's journey as both a stranger to the land and sea. The trials she will go through to bring justice and peace to Gondor as the hidden Queen during the War of the Ring.
1. Chapter 1

The Broken Path

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR, those rights belong to JRR Tolken and co.

Standing at the top of the citadel tower I could feel the history of thousands weighing on my shoulders. Ghosts of heroes and kings long past littered the pathway of this mighty city. There had never been a Queen before.

Underneath the canopy and shadow of the white tree it would take place. Standing on a marble dais at the top of the citadel I could feel for a moment a sense of lightness to my limbs. A playful breeze swept by, stirring my pale white dress, attempting to lift the sheer veil covering my face. The muttering of the high priest continued. I looked from the steward to the West. Never had there been such a difference in these two figures. While the West looked strong and haunting in the fading sun, the king, looked instead haggard. The deep wrinkles and frown lines marring his face, and his hair oiled in ringlets could not have been so far from the noble lines of true kings who had ruled before our time.

I sighed, as the priest continued "_to forsworn are the lines of the Kings of the Numenorians, from the high seas you have come to name Gondor as your land and so I bind you to the lady of Dol Amroth whose half elven blood may lead the Numenoreans once more to purity…" _I was no true Queen. There had never been one for centuries. Only Denethor's madness could have wrought this fate for me. It had been the only way to legitimize himself. Long seasons and untold generations had passed since Mithrellas had walked this land, but I was to be given her name, which was not my own, her bloodline which was not my own. I was an impostor.

* * *

_11 years earlier…_

They say the sea takes more than it gives. The soft sand and the constant beating of the waves would have you think otherwise. Rolls of water grasp at the shore, slowly grabbing the land holding me fast to the realm of Gondor. I came from the sea a long time ago—well only 10 years really—but it is enough to instill a sort of terrifying fear in me that it will take something of mine in exchange for giving me to the land. That price my father always says to me, will probably be his, but he doesn't know that in my heart he is the most precious thing I have and if the sea were to take him, well it will have exacted it's price from me.

I am not the normal dark haired, tall, and pale skinned personage as the people of Lebennin and Dol Amroth. I came from a land far away beyond the Umbarian realms to a place filled with green bamboo and emerald waters. I never knew the exact consequences of my coming and leaving that place but my father always said that it was the sea god of the realm that floated me to him in the reeds on one of his merchant ventures. I always end up whacking him on the back saying "Surely it is the gods that have cursed me for such a foolish father" and I would smile in jest. I have the same black hair has the Gondorians on the western shore but it is a deeper shade of night—blacker than the waters of the Umbarian shores, my skin is bronze in the summer and light gold in the winter for I tan easily. Otherwise my father says the most beautiful and I would say only feature of my face are my eyes, as they are slanted, almond shaped brown found nowhere else.

Enough of me, I turn away from my musing by the shores and skip happily along the beach heading to a grove of reeds, I am looking for mussels for diner because even at ten although I feel I am old enough for anything, I can cook. Well, passably since usually it is papa that does the most, but he's always so patient with me. After wading knee deep in the muddy water I stick my hand closest to the softer mud midway between open shore and ocean. Here the fresh water mixes with the sea and it is the perfect place for mussel hunting. After a few hours I have gathered a pound of mussels and proceed to make my way home. We live a whiles away from the nearest city, my father who enjoys places away from people had built a 1 story cottage near the sandbars off the bay of Belfalas. We had a wonderful view and easy access to the beach and sea. From here you could see the tall sails of the ports of Lebennin and my father always jokes, we'd be the first to see an Umbarian pirate invasion. Nevertheless, it is an easy climb from the beach home and when I do I run through the brambles and grass to reach the doorway. Wearing a skirt I lunge to the door shouting "I'm home papa!! I'm home!!" No one answers. _He must be at the port then_, quickly I dump the mussels into a pot pulled from underneath the stove, grabbing butter, sea salt, and a dash of sugar, it makes everything taste better. I grab some firewood from outside the shed ducking back in through the back door, after some initial frustration the fire ignites and in the blink of an eye I have a pot of mussels bubbling merrily on the stove top.

I sigh, wiping my hands on my apron and sit wiping the sweat from my brow. I grab a ladle of water from the large earthen ware pots and sip, the water tastes cool and sweet. Suddenly, the front door bursts open and I jump in surprise, he's never usually that loud, running to the door I skid to a halt. My father arrives, his black beard stiff with sea salt and his bright eyes smiling from underneath his seaman's cap. He is soaking wet and carrying what appears to be a set of rags.

"Hurry Ivrin I fear he won't last long in this wet, grab some clean clothes and a blanket there's a good girl" puzzled I said" You mean for the rags? Father you know I can just wash those, it is no great matter" Laughing he set the bundle on the couch and I realize hands to my mouth that the rags were actually a boy.

Rushing I zip through my room behind the kitchen and grab a woolen blanket and one of father's shirts. By then the boy is coughing, and I shove the shirts at my father and rush into the kitchen to grab some hot water from the pot of muscles. Arriving, I slow suddenly shy, we never have many visitors secluded as we are and I hide behind my father's bulk until he notices me with the cup of steaming water. Turning around, he laughs" By the god you can read minds Ivrin, always knew you were god chosen." Laughing at the old jest I sigh giving him the cup of water over my shoulder I whisper "the mussels are ready" before ducking back into the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR those rights belong to Tolkien.

Night falls quietly as I clean the remnants of the night's dinner. The boy is quietly asleep on the couch. My father who has gone out to cut more firewood returns and asks me to pick up my flute and walk with him in the backyard. Playing a silly tune for him I warm up. It is a beautiful thing, made of some silvery metal with fluently carved vines and leaves crisscrossing its length. On it are scratched strange symbols that neither of us can read. Father said it came with me in the basket he had found me in, that a long with a simple onyx ring which I wear around my neck. Trilling softly in the mouth piece I keep it quiet lest we wake the boy through the open doorway. Night sounds of crickets and sleepy birds sound through the air in concert with me.

"Ivrin, pearl of my heart" I smile at the silly nickname" the boy has been through some trauma at sea so you must be gentle with him. I know you wish to play but he has lost something precious to the sea in exchange for the land like you" I nod wisely keeping my eyes on his.

They are deep and black in the light and I catch a firefly reflected in his eyes. Laughing I turn away and dance through a cloud of fireflies wavering near a pond. "I understand papa, I shall keep be gentle as if he were a timid mouse." We walk back slowly his hand in mine as I lean on his tall bulk.

The week that passed started slowly, papa left for port on most days as shipping season would soon be underway and he was the head of a small fleet in Lebennin about half a days walk from home. This left me to my own devices and in the spring air there was much to do. I took a basket of laundry that needed airing and took stock of our food stores. For the most part I ignored the boy who looked to be 14 or so. He never spoke neither to me or my father. From what I could tell as I put the laundry on the line behind the house there was much that needed fixing with that boy. His hair was straggly and he continued to hold on to his rags.

That night father did not come home at his usual time before sundown when the crickets begin chirping, so I hummed as I cooked some dandelions and some eggs. The tune was one I had made up from the very first time I had picked up my flute. (The river flows in you-by some dude)

As I hummed watching the stove and chopping up the greens I heard something shatter and the sound of splintering glass wrended the air. Whirling around at the sound my eyes searched wildly for the noise only to find the boy crouched on the floor crying with blood streaming down his wrists and broken glass everywhere.

Rushing forward I grabbed a towel and slowly pried his hand away from his wrist. He didn't flinch or lash out when I touched him so I gently inspected the wound. The blood wasn't spurting and my ten year old self knew instinctively it had to be washed. Preferably with salt water. After a few minutes I inspected my clumsily made bandage.

The bleeding had stopped and I ignored the way his gaze traveled over my face. Turning away, I said smartly" Well that was silly of you, I don't even know where you got that glass seeing as we have none lying around here"

Grabbing a broom I brusquely shooed him away sweeping up the shards and removing them safely outside. As I came in I saw him once again unmoving on the floor. Sighing I approached him slowly and got down on the floor next to him. I looked at his face which was bent down, his dirty hair covering his face. Something pathetic about the way he looked made my child's heart quiver. He looked so sad and forlorn, like the seagulls found on the shore braced in the cold.

"You know, the sea my father says, takes and gives, she is really just jealous of you for leaving her for land. When father came for me the sea gave me up floating in a basket of reeds with nothing and no one. I do not even look as I should for you see, father and I look nothing a like. Because you see, the sea gave me to papa and took my parents."

And before I knew it my life story poured out and I told him of everything I knew. How I was sad a little that I looked so different from everybody else here and how all I had left was this place, a flute and a ring. As I was talking I had not noticed that his head had slowly started to tilt up and as I was talking to the ground afraid to look at him I looked up suddenly interrupted by a pair of green eyes staring at me. Taking his face in my hands I said "...and I do not look right, not like you and papa" He gave me a crooked smile and traced my eyes with his thumb. Something passed between us that day; I could see it in his eyes reflecting my own. In a way children just become friends without speaking without remembering even how it came to be so I found him the next morning following me around.

Papa had returned late that night and I woke with the dawn knowing he would sleep in. Creeping into the kitchen I was startled to find the boy sitting there waiting for me. Laughing I shushed him and began to set out the pots and pans for breakfast. Ladling some water from the huge earthenware jugs I prepared the meal. It would be eggs once again it would seem. Half way through the making I noticed the boy was idle, he still looked dirty and it just wouldn't do. Looking at him mischievously I decided he needed a haircut. Grabbing some scissors I beckoned him forward, he came trustingly. Taking a bowl I plopped it onto his head and took the scissor chopping as best as I could. When I took it off I surveyed my masterpiece and broke out laughing.

"You look so good" I cried though in reality he looked a disaster. Roused by the sunlight pouring through the small house and of my laughter and the boy's crooked smile my father came into the kitchen hungry and curious to the racket.

Upon surveying the disaster his face broke into a smile "ah well then, what have you done Ivrin? I don't even recognize the boy under the hair!" Laughing he took the boy out the backyard and in half an hours time the boy came back with a shaved head, bright green eyes clearly visible. For the first time in a week since we had brought him home he spoke. It was muffled and creaky like a ship but over the past few days slowly he lost the old man demeanor and the voice of a boy broke through.

I took him to the beach, the forest, and the cliff toward above Lebennin. I told him stories of pirates and of the Valar who first came to Middle Earth. As time passed we became the best of friends and because he was 14 my father felt it safe to leave during the summer season to the ports of Dol Amroth and a place called Osgiliath, a port far to east and inland shore.

And so we grew closer, as my 12th birthday passed one summers day while we were lying on the grass near a sandbar looking up at the clouds. "One day" I said "I will travel the world at sea and find treasure and gold and people will know my name Ivrin the corsair" looking at me Falas spoke "I will be a strong warrior one day, a leader of men and I will go to Minas Tirith and become king myself" I laughed, "oh Falas, if only to be great for a day you and I_" Falas_ I thought to myself.. That was the name my father had picked for him as he could not, would not remember his own, we were linked that way, I named after a sacred pool in legend, and he named after the very bay he had arrived from. And so I was content, finally with company of my own.

*The reason I have underlined Lebennin is because I know it is an area rather than an actual port, but for simplicity's sake will call it a port.


	3. Chapter 3

As the months past we grew closer as a little family out in the woods. I turned 12 and Falas 15. Things had not changed much since that spring day when we had first found him. One morning I awoke to the cramping in my belly and an odd sensation of wetting the bed. I got up from my cot and flung off the covers. They were covered in blood. Terrified that I was dying I immediately ushered myself to the latrine at the back of the house holding a wad of cloth between my legs. _Why wouldn't it stop? father is not even here, he and Falas left yesterday to find him a job at the port. I will bleed to death and no one will know..._ tears started pouring from my eyes as I thought about my subsequent death.

Morning passed and still I had not died. It was then that I heard the sound of clanging and the bleats of goats and soft hooves hitting the earth. _What in the Valar…._peaking through the crack in the latrine shed I saw goats of every color meandering by and right ahead was an old crone leaning against an equally old knarled tree. Startled I gasped it looked as though she was waiting for me.

As if in answer she stared right at me through the wall cracks and cackled "Come girl, I know you can see me and I you. I do not have all day" Spluttering I reacted without thinking, I muttered "Grandmother, I would but I can not, I am at the very halls of death and bleeding still"

In answer she cackled some more "You are not at death's door nor are you ever going to be in the halls of the Valar. That is for men and men alone. Your fate is not to die in some latrine girl, now come out and I will help you" T_he old lady could read minds_! Sighing timidly with the cloth still in place I inched out of my refuge and peaked out. No one had ever wandered up here before and I was cautious. Taking a couple of steps forward toward the elderly lady I cautiously sat a few feet away from her wincing in discomfort. Her goats nudged me in concern and I calmed leaning a hand against the flank of a small white one.

Upon closer look the crone was ancient and gnarled with wrinkles and deep lines by her mouth and eyes. Her purple cloak covered her from head to toe but her eyes were the most beautiful feature on her face. Looking up slowly I gasped for they were exactly like mine. Slanted and almond shaped. The only place I had ever seen them were on my face.

I bowed my head toward the grandmother feeling a sharp twinge in my belly I spoke without thinking "I would take your wisdom grandmother as these will probably be my last moments"

Chuckling the crone answered" It is nothing, simply your childhood leaking away my child. You are a woman born on this day and your flow will wax and wane like the moon's face. You are now capable of bearing children and your body will change as a result. Men will look upon you differently one day as will you"

_She was speaking in riddles, me a woman? What did that have to do with bleeding?_ "It means everything child" she said calmly.

It was then that I learned of the birds and the bees and what would happen between a man and a woman on a dark night and the result…a screaming squalling baby. I was quite shocked at first to know the anatomy of a male and when I asked if only humans did this I was to receive the startled answer that no, the Valar had dedicated this act to all living beings though it may vary from species to species. She gave me bandages that I could wash and told me that at the end of every month the flow would begin anew and when it stopped I was to know that I was with child. After this startling revelation I invited the woman inside helping her herd the goats and offered her some tea with some bread.

By the time Falas and Father came home that night I had learned a plethora of knowledge, how to bake Rosemary bread, plant an herb garden, tickle trout, and even sew. When they burst through the door it was to find me sitting and hemming one of father's shirts while listening to the elderly lady talk of legends beyond the sea as well as news from other cities in Gondor. They soon became acquainted after my father was explained of my condition, looking relieved and blushing hotly he inquired to my health and asked if I wanted to know anything more on the subject, laughing I whispered no, I was indeed very educated now.

The crone as she insisted to be called stayed with us and during that time I learned of the world beyond this small wood, of events happening beyond my borders that I could never have dreamed of. My father found the woman to be a good influence on my womanly capabilities, with new recipes being tested out daily. Shirts were hemmed, and I even made myself a new dress.

As I grew my 13th birthday passed and summer passed into midwinter. Father on a rare surprise allowed me to go into the city with Falas who was now a seasonal port worker with my father. My 13th birthday both Falas and he had been away on a two day voyage to a neighboring port and had entirely missed my birthday. The crone who had taken to sleeping long afternoons would watch the house and my father while we left on our adventure. I had never been to the city of Lebennin before having heard of its dangers. I was so excited I tugged and pulled on Falas hands for the half days journey it took to get there. The road was a deep brown color and the trees were bare as it was not yet spring and winter still clung to its branches. Dressed in my best dress with a shawl covering my hair I bounced happily next to Falas. Falas had changed much over the 3 years since we had first taken him in, at 14 he had been so small. He had been my height at 10 years of age. Now looking up at his sturdy shoulders and lean build I felt proud, since he had become a seasonal worker at the port I had seen less and less of him but he had changed. Not just physically but personalty wise as well. He was more responsible often helping me with the chores and taking down hard to reach objects. Though we no longer played our make belief pirate games he still took the time to sit on the beach with me and play tag if no one was looking.

As we walked we passed horsemen tall, dark rushing past us to some unknown destination.I looked at their stern faces wondering at their destinations. Nearing the city limits the traffic became more congested with wagons pulled by thick oxen bellowing by tails twitching. I had never seen so many people in one place before and the noise! We walked up to the last rise in the road and there like a multicolored quilt lay the eastern port of Lebennin, the bay sparkled like steel in the cloudy light. Taking my arm firmly in his we strode forward passing shops and vendors calling out their wares. We stopped at jewelry stands and cloth vendors, it was all so marvelous. I was to buy myself a small treat for the day it being my 13th birthday and all. We bought something called hot cider which smelled and tasted of apples and spice. And in the end we settled on a new silver chain for my onyx ring.

As Falas haggled furiously with the merchant I wandered a short distance away and was slowly pulled unwittingly with the crowd. I had not realized how lost I had become until I realized that the vendors stalls had changed. No longer were they a familiar red canvas but were now black. I had no idea what this meant; all I knew was that I could no longer find Falas and how angry he will be with me. Shuddering and pulling my shawl closer I looked for a kind face among the crowd but I realized with an ice cold shiver _that_ _I was surrounded by men. Where are the women? Where am I? Falas is going to kill me. _

I attempted to go against the flow of the crowd and was pushed violently to the ground. Losing my balance my shawl went flying to the muddy ground and my hair tumbled. No one stopped and I would have been trampled had it not been for two burly men who suddenly advanced upon me. There booted feet stood to close and as I looked up shielding my hand against the glare of the weak sun I did not like what I saw.

In a scathing voice the first of the men called out "And what have we here in the black market of Lebeninn. A small Umbarian scum or perhaps one of the Haradrim. One of their whores perhaps? Ugly slut"

Silenced I could only stare at what was coming out of his mouth. His words were foul and they lodged in my heart. The other wrenched at my arm whether to pull me up or break my arm I do not know. I could only cry and out and whimper at the sudden pain.

"Can you not speak,Haradrim scum? Or are you mute or just plain dense like most of your filthy people?" A crowd of people had gathered all filthy men from the shady parts of the city. Looking at there faces they swirled before me _I can not pass out for surely they would rape me and dump me in the harbor, even in front of these people. _A small flair of anger lit in my heart has I watched the crowd stare at me like a wild beast. None would come to my aid though they could have easily have shaken off my attackers. I hated the helpless feeling, the loss of my own fate in the hands of the two bulky sailors. One of them held my arms behind my back while the other continued taunting, but the words were beyond me now. I was no longer listening waiting only for Falas to come. It was at that point that the sailor taunting me shouted "Are you listening slut? How dare you ignore me" and slapped me full across the face. Gasping from the physical contact I gave a small sob. He tore ruthlessly at my hair as I tried to escape yanking my head back. _No one will come…where is Falas? Why are they doing this? I am Gondorian. _Suddenly through the haze of a bruised cheek and a split lip I felt my dress tear. The crowd excited by the violence began pushing forward until I felt suffocated by the smell of dirty people and sewer smell.

Suddenly through the crowd there came a shout as men of the guard came pushing the crowd apart " Nothing to see, nothing to see, part ways" I could hear faintly the crowd easing away from me as cool air filtered in from the mess of bodies. Gasping I felt hands pry me apart from my attackers roughly shoving me away, someone was holding my arm quite tightly but I was to tired to see, the cries of mournful seagulls the only backdrop to my harsh panting. That's when I blacked out and heard nothing.


End file.
